The Son of Amyntor
by OtisSpofford
Summary: Kim’s life is shattered when a mission goes terribly wrong and Ron is killed. When the group responsible targets her, she finds help from an unlikely source: someone from the inside. Rating for language and violence.
1. Chapter 1: The Unexpected Unexpected

"Thanks for the ride, Mr. Ryan," Kim said, leaning into the cockpit of the King Air C-90, where Ron was happily ensconced in the co-pilot's seat. Ever since his brief stint as the Fearless Ferret (2.0) and his even briefer stint as pilot of the Ferret Jet (which could easily have been fatal) he had taken every opportunity he could to log some time at the controls of an airplane. He was easily guiding the twin turbo-prop along the course programmed into Garmin G-1000's navigation page.

"It's no trouble at all, Kim. You saved my life. An airplane ride here and there is hardly payback. Besides, I was heading to Teterboro anyway. A quick swing through Jersey is barely out of my way."

Seven months ago, Jason Ryan, who ran Middleton airport, was run off the road by a drunk driver. His car ended up on its roof in a ditch and caught fire. Kim and Ron happened upon the accident only moments after it happened and pulled the unconscious Ryan from the wreck before he burned to death.

"No big. We were just in the right place at the right time."

Today they were headed back to New Jersey, where rumor had it that Motor Ed was tinkering with big boy toys again. Using contacts from the lab where he once worked on top secret government projects he had apparently stolen some new sort of engine and was building a vehicle that would make the "Doom-V" look like a toy.

"Two Seven Four Victor Papa, descend and maintain one zero thousand, cleared direct Morristown."

"One zero thousand, direct Morristown, Four Victor Papa," Ron responded to the radio from New York TRACON.

"Four Victor Papa, contact Morristown Approach on one one eight point one, advise you have information Hotel."

"118.1, advise hotel, 4VP, good day, sir."

"Looks like we're about to begin our decent, Kim," Jason said. "Better get strapped in."

"Sure thing."

"I'll take it from here, Ron."

"Aww, man. I can land it."

"I'm sure you can, but I'm PIC, and, oh yes, I have a license."

Kim couldn't help but smile as she sat down and fastened her seat belt. Ron had seemed to mature almost overnight after the Lorwardian invasion a few weeks ago, but he still had his moments. Just a month ago, Kim would never have believed that she would miss moments like that, but now they didn't come often enough. As many times as she had wished Ron would grow up, she never imagined she would miss the child once he was gone, but she certainly did.

Ten minutes later they taxied up to the terminal. Jason idled and feathered the number one engine and Kim and Ron quickly disembarked. Ron closed the airstair door and they waved as Jason taxied back to the runway.

"So, what now?" Ron asked.

"Time for some Junkyard Wars."

"Right on!"

* * *

Night was just falling as they crept over the fence that defined the perimeter of the junkyard. Kim took a few deep breaths and felt her senses heighten to their maximum sensitivity.

"Okay Ron, keep your eyes peeled," Kim said softly. "There's no telling what Motor Head's got hidden around here."

"I'm glad Rufus isn't here. He hated this place."

"How'd the Tweebs talk you into letting them take him along anyway?"

"A one of a kind chance to fly a miniature rocket? How could I _not_ let Rufus go?"

"I suppose you've got a point."

Ron whirled suddenly and took up a defensive stance.

"What is it?"

"I thought I saw movement."

"Well keep an eye on it, but we don't dare go looking after a half seen sight. It could be exactly what they want us to do."

They continued to creep through the junkyard, but there was no further sign of life. No movement, no animal sounds, not even a breeze. It was deathly silent. There almost seemed to be something sucking the sound out of the air. Even their stealthy footfalls should have produced at least a little sound, but they did not. The only sounds Kim heard were faint internal sounds. Her heartbeat, the rushing of her blood through her veins, her quick shallow breaths, and the unfortunate gurgle of a not yet completely digested salad.

They entered the clearing that had once contained the hidden entrance to Ed's underground lab, but the odd formation of stacked cars was gone.

"Well, that's dookie," Ron whispered.

"Looks like we're not going to get an invitation this time."

"Should we split up?"

"Sure, if we decided we wanted to make it easier to capture us."

"So, I'm gonna go ahead and take that as a no."

"Good call."

From their left came a soft metallic sound, as though a soda can had been tipped over, or perhaps a loose piece of scrap metal being tripped over. It could easily be a trap, but it was also their only lead at the moment. Kim inclined her head in that direction. After a few paces Ron grabbed her elbow.

"Wait," he whispered in her ear. "When they brought me here that first time, they used a different entrance. It was more hidden than the main entrance."

"Do you remember where it was?"

"Not sure. But I think it was over there." He pointed back to their right.

"Okay, let's try that."

They headed back that way and after a few minutes approached a wall of stacked cars. It looked solid, but Ron led her to a small gap between a minivan and a convertible.

"This is it."

He squeezed through the gap and Kim wondered how Ed managed to get through the narrow opening. But sure enough, behind the stack was an obvious entrance. They ventured inside and suddenly a set of doors closed behind them. A moment later came the clunking of gears and the elevator started down. Kim took up a ready position as they descended.

"Be ready, Ron."

The elevator stopped and Kim tensed as the doors slid open.

The room was empty.

"Where's all his stuff?" asked Ron.

"Maybe he's moved to a different location."

"Nah. Wade would have told us."

"Wait. Over there."

She led them to the center of the large room. A small green puddle, roughly four inches in diameter, stained the floor. Kim dabbed her gloved finger in it and brought it to her nose.

"Anti-freeze. It's at least 70 degrees in here. Whatever made this puddle hasn't been gone long or this would just be a green stain."

"So then where is it now?"

"Ron, that's the question of the day."

The tomb-like silence was suddenly broken by several sharp sounds. They looked at each other in alarm.

"Was that gunfire?"

"Automatic rifle," Ron responded.

Shouts arose from some place further in the lab, followed by more shots, then a cacophony of both.

"Whatever is going on here just got above our heads," Ron said.

"I agree. Time to retreat and call in the proper authorities."

They returned to the elevator and pressed the call button. Nothing happened.

"Not good," said Ron.

"But we've got an edge."

She activated the Kimmunicator.

"Wade, we need an exit."

Static answered her. Ron tried his, also to no avail. The sounds of the fight were escalating, and getting closer.

"We gotta find a way out, quickly," Kim said. She started towards the shadowy exit at the far end of the room. Ron followed close behind, then suddenly moved to one side of the door and pushed Kim behind him protectively. This got a surprised and somewhat miffed response from Kim.

"Ron, what are you-"

"Shhh!"

_Did he _really_ just 'shush' me?_ She thought.

She was about to say something when she noticed a faint blue-white aura surrounding him, something she hadn't seen since graduation, and realized he was tapping his Mystical Monkey Power. Only seconds later a black clad figure rushed through the door carrying an impressively large black rifle. Lightning quick, Ron tackled him from behind, catching him off guard. In only moments, Ron had possession of the weapon and pointed it at the person lying on the ground. Kim started to move towards him and was suddenly knocked to the ground. A knee hit her in the small of her back and her breath rushed from her lungs.

"Drop the weapon! Drop it now!"

Gasping for breath, Kim saw at least four pair of feet storm past her. She couldn't see Ron.

"Let her go!"

"Put the weapon on the ground and back away!"

"Let her up and I'll think about it!"

"Last time! Drop it or we _will_ shoot you!"

Kim tried to shout at Ron to obey them, but she was still trying to get her lungs working again. Then she heard a loud clatter. Accompanying the sound was an increase in the brightness in the room, a radiance that matched the faint glow that earlier she had noticed around Ron.

"Now let her up, and don't think I'm intimidated by the guns. These ain't Christmas tree lights here."

The feet stormed towards Ron's voice. The sounds of battle quickly followed. Hard slaps, fists connecting with body armor, bodies hitting the floor. Shouts and hollers. The blue-white light intensified, and there was a sound like a thunderclap. Kim saw two black forms flying past her, and heard the hard impact of large masses colliding with the wall, then the floor. The shouts intensified and Kim's gut tightened into a hard knot as several gunshots sounded.

"Cease fire! Cease fire! You might hit him!"

The sounds of battle abruptly abated.

"Now lower your weapons, let her up, and maybe we can talk this through."

The glow was fading and Kim was jerked roughly to her feet as she finally managed to catch her breath. She almost sobbed out loud when she saw Ron with a chokehold on one of the black-clad figures, and most definitely not shot.

"Now release him."

"You first."

"Listen, son-"

"I'm not your son. You let her go, I let him go. That's how it's gonna be. Or I could just break his neck, and then whoop _all_ your asses."

After a moment, Kim was roughly shoved towards Ron, and Ron let his captive go.

"Now just who the hell _are_ you?"

"Ask me nicely."

"Ron!" Kim shouted.

"Ask me nicely!"

There was a moment of silence and several of the black figures looked at each other. The tension in the room was thicker than a bad LA smog. Only with the sudden silence did Kim realize there were still sounds of a fight from deeper in the lab. After another brief moment of strained silence, one of the men finally spoke.

"Please, sir, identify yourself."

Ron relaxed visibly, as though everything were now hunky-dory, and said pleasantly: "Ron Stoppable. And this is Kim Possible. Perhaps you've heard of us? And who might you be?"

The commandos (commandos?) relaxed and were noticeably relieved. The leader peeled open a Velcro flap over his left breast, revealing gold stitching that formed the letters NSA.

"Hey, cool! I saw a vest just like that at Army-Navy surplus." His voice turned hard again. "You're gonna have to do better than that."

"You're a cocky little pissant, aren't you?"

"Only when I'm outnumbered and my life is threatened."

The man removed an ID wallet, opened it and presented it to Ron.

"Special Agent Lee Majors, NSA. We're conducting a recovery operation. What are you doing here?"

"We're conducting a recovery operation."

"Ron, that's enough!" Kim said sharply, stepping forward.

"I'm sorry, Agent Majors. We were given information that Motor Ed had stolen some kind of new engine from his old government lab. We were just trying to stop whatever cracked plot mullet-head was trying to come up with."

"And where did you get that information? It's been classified."

"We have our sources."

"You realize I could detain you both until you provide me with that information."

"Look, Agent Majors. We're obviously working toward a common goal, and NSA types don't usually deal with villains like Motor Ed. If I didn't have a way of getting information about them, they would get away with an awful lot. And an NSA agent should know that the only way to keep sources is to keep them confidential."

He gave a conceding nod. "Very well. But I'm afraid I must ask you and Mr. Stoppable to remain here, under guard, until our operation is completed."

"Thank you, Agent Majors, but that's really not necessary. We've plenty of experience with Edward Lipsky."

"No doubt. But that's not who we're dealing with. Your source," he leaned close to them and said under his breath, "And I won't mention Wade's name here." He straightened and continued in a normal tone, "Was only half correct. Yes, the engine was stolen, and brought here. But by types much more dangerous than the likes of Motor Ed. He was just the fall guy. Otherwise, as you said, we wouldn't be involved."

"So who did steal the engine?"

I'm sorry, but that's-"

"Classified," Kim finished with him, holding up her hands and shrugging in defeat.

"Exactly. Hyler, Adams, Howell, stay here with our guests. The rest of you, with me."

They turned and left the room, heading towards the now sporadic sounds of battle. Kim turned towards Ron with raised eyebrows.

"So what was _that_ all about?"

Ron rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "I'm not sure." He seemed sincere. "But you never know with the government types."

"You know damn well what I'm talking about." Kim was surprised to hear herself swear, but her emotions were breaking loose now that the situation was resolved. "The heroics? The taking charge? And you _shushed_ me?"

Ron laughed nervously. "Yeah, well, I just all of a sudden got a feeling those guys were about to storm in here. There wasn't time to explain."

"You shushed me."

"I-I'm sorry Kim. It was heat of the moment."

"And what made you think you could take on eight fully armed combat troops with just your wits? And power that's always been intermittent at best?"

"Well, see, ever since graduation, I've sort of been…experimenting. I've felt more in control, more…I don't know. But I think Sensei was right, and that I've come into my own."

"And you haven't told me any of this?"

"I didn't want to scare you. I wanted to be sure about it all before I said anything."

She stared him down, and he quickly looked away. She was amused (and just a tiny bit relieved) that even with this newfound confidence and strength she could still level him with a look. It was an important skill for a girlfriend to possess.

"Don't worry, Kim. I'll still follow you anywhere."

She laughed, heaved a great sigh, and kissed his forehead.


	2. Chapter 2: Dawn of Despair

Ron was beginning to fidget. Kim figured they had been there at least an hour. Hyler, Adams, and Howell hadn't said a word, not even to each other. Whatever signal was jamming her Kimmunicator was still being broadcast so they were still cut off. Wade would be getting worried by now, but there was little she could do about it at the moment.

Ron let out a frustrated groan. "Ahh! What is taking so long?"

"Do you really want them to do a half-way job?"

"Well…no. But we haven't heard a gunshot or anything in like three hours."

"I don't think we've been here quite that long."

"Well it sure feels like that long."

Kim paused to be sure Ron was finished for the moment.

"Ron…this new found ability…"

"Don't worry, Kim. I'm not trying to change my role or anything."

"It's not that. I'm worried about you. We don't know exactly what you're capable of yet. I was just thinking you should be wary about these powers until you can get some time with Sensei."

"It's okay, Kim. I'm always careful. I haven't done anything like that thing earlier since graduation. But I _was_ kind of pushed into a corner. And I have talked to Sensei. He's given me some exercises, things to help me discover what I can and can't do. But he also said that my powers being intermittent over the last couple of years _was_ me learning how to control it. That it comes naturally, instinctively, and that I should just let go and allow my instincts to take over."

The sounds of heavy footfalls approaching echoed through the chamber and a few moments later, Agent Majors and roughly a dozen more men entered. He addressed both Kim and Ron, and their "guards".

"The situation is under control. All suspects have been neutralized."

Kim wondered what he meant by "neutralized".

"So we're free to go?" she asked.

"Not just yet, I'm afraid. We'll need to debrief you both before we can release you."

"But we haven't done anything," Ron protested. "We haven't even _seen_ anything."

"Then it should be a short debrief. Let's go."

He led them back into the main lab. It looked pristine. There were marks on the walls that could have been made by bullets, but could also have been made by a long list of other things. And the way that Majors had said "neutralized", Kim was virtually certain that there must have been casualties of some kind. But there was absolutely zero evidence of any kind of a fight.

"So did you recover the engine?" Kim asked.

"We'll cover everything in the debrief," Majors replied without looking at her. He was clearly giving her the cold shoulder.

They were led through the lab, then up a large elevator and were deposited back in the junkyard where Majors turned to them.

"I'm going to have to ask you to surrender your communication devices until after the debrief."

"Is that really necessary?" Kim asked.

"Yes, it is."

Kim exchanged a look with Ron. He made a face that she knew to interpret as something being wrong. As he removed his Kimmunicator from his wrist and handed it to Majors, he swept his eyes over and back across the NSA group, pausing ever so slightly on Majors both times, then looked at Kim and made the face again.

The message was clear. Somehow he sensed that something was not being advertised and that the group, particularly Majors, could not be trusted. He was letting her know to be prepared to make a move if it became necessary.

She gave Ron a subtle nod as she handed her Kimmunicator to Majors.

"Cell phones as well, and pagers if you have one. You'll be frisked later. You would be well advised not to let us find anything then."

They also handed over their phones, and Ron his pager.

"Agent Majors, I can't help but feel we're being treated like suspects."

"That's because you are."

"We are?" Ron exclaimed.

"And why is that?"

Majors turned to Kim, his annoyance showing.

"Miss Possible, your reputation, and our firm belief that you are not a threat, has kept you from being placed in restraints. But in this situation we have procedures that must be followed, without exception, for our security. I have already extended to you every courtesy that I am allowed. Please understand and bear with us. We have a very serious responsibility to the security of this nation and we make exceptions for no one. We can't afford to."

Kim nodded. "We can understand that. Thank you for explaining."

They were ushered towards two white nondescript conversion vans and Majors guided Ron towards the one in the front while the rest of the men began to guide Kim towards the one in rear. Kim stopped.

"Agent Majors, I truly respect your duties and your responsibilities, but you must also understand that Ron and I simply cannot allow ourselves to be separated."

"You don't have a choice in the matter, Miss Possible."

"I'm afraid I do. I believe we've proved we can be formidable opponents, even outnumbered and out-armed. As a tactical man, I'm sure you won't argue that when your team is surrounded by a superior force, whether they're on your side or not, it is tactically unsound to allow yourselves to be separated, and we therefore will not allow it."

Majors grabbed Kim's arm and jerked her so that she was eye to eye with him.

"Possible, you are trying my patience. Now you and Stoppable _will_ be separated and individually debriefed. We can do it now, debrief you on our way back to New York, drop you off at JFK or La Guardia or wherever, and let you be on your way. Or you can ride to New York together, where you will be detained at our offices there, separated, and debriefed in a much longer, much more intensive, and much less polite manner. Take your pick."

She angrily stared him down, mentally going over her options. One, they could fight. Assuming they managed to get away (a hell of an assumption), it would no doubt bring the whole agency down upon not only them, but their friends and family as well. Two, they could insist on remaining together now. That might raise suspicions in the eyes of the higher ups in New York and cause similar problems once they were detained there. Three, they could cooperate. Chances were that Majors and his men were sincere, and trying to make things easy on them while they did their jobs when they had no particular incentive to do so. If so, she and Ron _were_ being excessively difficult. Kim sighed and broke eye contact.

"Very well, Agent Majors." She gave Ron a look that said to agree with her. "I apologize. You may expect our full cooperation throughout the rest of this situation."

"Thank you."

They began moving towards their respective vans, but Majors stopped after a few paces and turned.

"Kim. You're right; I wouldn't want to be split up if I were you. But given your options as they currently are, this is the soundest tactic available to you. I really am trying to be as easy on you as I can be."

"We appreciate that, Agent Majors."

He nodded, they climbed in the vans, and the two-vehicle convoy headed out.

* * *

"See? That wasn't so bad," Majors told Kim.

Twenty or twenty-five minutes after they left the junkyard, the vans stopped. They got out and Kim and Ron were switched. Climbing into the lead van, Kim noticed that the cab was sealed from the rear section. The rest of the team remained in the second van. As they passed each other, Ron gave Kim a nod and a small wink to let her know that everything had gone well.

As had things with her. Majors questioned her for less than twenty minutes, and determined that Kim and Ron were hiding nothing, had no knowledge of who Majors' team were or what they were doing, and knew next to nothing about the experimental engine that had been stolen.

"So, did you get it back?" Kim asked.

Majors allowed a small smile. "Yes."

He drew a deep breath, let it out, then opened a door on one of the several cabinets lining the walls of the van. He retrieved a half-empty pint of Crown Royal, unscrewed the cap, and offered it to Kim. She raised an eyebrow.

"I'm barely 19, Agent."

"So?"

"Is this some kind of entrapment?"

Majors laughed. "No, it's not."

"Well, thank you, but no thank you."

"Suit yourself." He tipped his head back and took a healthy slug from the bottle, then replaced the cap and returned the bottle to the cabinet.

"Helps settle the nerves." He leaned back and gave Kim a long appraising stare, which she easily returned.

"You know, I've been following your career for over a year now."

"Have you?"

"Ever since that Lil' Diablo thing. Good work on that."

"Well, that was as much Ron's doing as it was mine."

"Really? I've gotten the impression that he's somewhat of a klutz, and as much a hindrance as anything else."

She smiled. "Everyone thinks that. And at times, I know it can seem that way. But there's a unique dynamic between us that only we understand. I couldn't save the world without him."

Majors held her eyes for a long moment. "You love him very much, don't you?"

Kim flushed at the directness of the question, but answered it honestly. "More than I ever thought I could love someone."

"That's good. You need someone like that." His eyes got a faraway look. "You need it."

After a moment, he focused on Kim again.

"We're not that different, you and I, Kim. I was on the Youth Search and Rescue Team in high school. Police Academy, then Quantico. Wanted to save the world. And I do. Not in the glamorous way you do, but in my own unique and sometimes clandestine way."

"So who was she?"

This momentarily startled him. "You're very perceptive, aren't you?"

"I have to be. Like you."

He took a deep breath and decided he needed another allotment of liquid courage. After he fortified himself, he again fixed Kim with a probing look.

"We met at Quantico. Like you and Ron, we were different as night and day. On a mission though, we were exactly alike. Cool, calm, precise, emotionless. Both of us very smart. But the rest of the time, she was exuberant. Full of life. I was my usual dour self, except when I was around her. She helped me to be…." He just smiled and let the sentence trail off.

"What happened?"

"She was at the Pentagon on 9-11."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"That's when I transferred to NSA."

The speaker above his head crackled to life.

"We're approaching the Holland tunnel, sir."

He pressed a button beside the speaker. "How does it look?"

"Not too bad. But it rarely is, so late. We should be through with little or no delay."

"Thanks, Henry."

Kim let the silence continue for a moment.

"Because of what happened?"

"Pardon?"

"You transferred to NSA because of what happened?"

"Yes. I almost joined the Marines. I didn't want to fight terrorism, I wanted to kill terrorists. I was mad as hell at the Muslim world. I wanted them all to hurt just as much as I did. My anger nearly destroyed me."

"So what-"

An explosion rocked the van and Kim was tossed out of her seat. Her head collided with the wall and she saw stars. The van lurched to a halt and Majors had the door open before the vehicle stopped rocking on its suspension. He began cursing as soon as he was out and Kim stumbled out right behind him.

She stopped cold in her tracks. Her breath caught in her throat, her heart felt like it stopped beating. Time itself seemed to halt.

The other van was being ravaged by fire. It was completely engulfed. All inside were almost certainly dead, and if not, would be in only moments.

Ron.

Time suddenly resumed, sped up.

"Ron!" Kim screamed, and charged the van. After less than ten feet, Majors grabbed her.

"No, Kim! It's too late!"

"No! No! Ron, no!"

Another explosion knocked them down and the first van was suddenly engulfed in flames as well. The heat was unbelievably intense.

"Incendiary!" One of Majors' men shouted.

Majors shouted something unintelligible back, then picked up Kim, who was kicking and screaming, still trying to get to the burning van. Majors threw her over his shoulder in a fireman's carry. She continued to struggle until the lead van's gas tank exploded and knocked them down again. This finally brought Kim to her senses as Majors dragged her to her feet.

"Come on, Possible! You with me?"

She nodded.

"Then help me get these people out of here!"

The tunnel was suddenly filled with noise she hadn't heard before. Blaring horns, people screaming, children crying. Knowing that thinking about Ron in the slightest right now would result in a likely fatal paralysis, Kim concentrated on what had been her life's focus for more than ten years now: Helping people.

* * *

The Possible TV was turned to the news, as were a large majority of American TV's at the moment, following the news of a terrorist bombing in the Holland Tunnel. It was the usual uninformative drivel as so-called "experts" continued to relentlessly re-phrase and repeat the same three or four facts they had, stretching a two-minute story into continuing coverage. Nevertheless people were glued to their screens, waiting, hoping for some new piece of information.

The station cut to their on scene reporter, standing behind the cordon blocking the Jersey side of the tunnel. Bright emergency lighting, running off of massive generators, brought mid-day light to the night. Emergency vehicles of every shape and size were parked haphazardly wherever there was space and dozens of people could be seen milling about.

"Sketchy reports are now coming in about the explosion here roughly an hour ago. Witnesses say that a large van exploded as it was driving through the tunnel. Moments later, a similar van which had apparently stopped to help the first, also exploded. Who or what were in those vans, nobody seems to know. But witnesses say the fires following the explosions were unusually intense, and believe that several other vehicles were consumed as a result. Several secondary explosions were reported, but we've been unable to confirm if they were other vehicles.

"There has been no information regarding how many people were in the vans, but otherwise although dozens of injuries have been reported, only two have been reported as having died, but those reports have not been confirmed."

The camera switched to footage that had been shot with a cell phone or home video camera inside the tunnel. Smoke rolled, people were running, falling over each other. Chaos ruled.

"This is the scene from inside the tunnel earlier this evening. As you can see, people were running, abandoning their cars, just trying to get away from the fires."

The camera panned across the tunnel, focusing on a slender redhead helping pull a short man with salt-and-pepper hair out of a small pick-up.

"James, look!" Anne said, pointing. "It's Kim!"

Sure enough, there was no mistaking her. The Drs. Possible exchanged worried looks, but by now they were used to hearing and seeing their daughter facing dangerous situations. All they could do was wait.

* * *

Kim sat on the rear bumper of the ambulance holding an oxygen mask over her face. Her lungs were raw, abraded. From time to time she hacked up a thick, black mucous and spat it on the ground, uncaring about the propriety of it. Her clothing and hair were soot stained, her shirt soaked with sweat. The exposed skin on her arms and face was badly blistered from the intense heat and an EMT was carefully wrapping her arms with gauze.

Her mind was blank, shut down. She felt neither discomfort from her wretchedly filthy state, nor pain from her badly burned arms and face. She stared, unseeing, at a point far beyond the sight of anyone else. Gradually, she became aware that someone was speaking to her. With Herculean effort, she managed to focus on him.

"Kim? Can you hear me?" asked Lee Majors.

She nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"You did good out there, Kim. You're to be commended."

"What…" she fumbled for the next word, speech returning to her slowly. "What happened?"

"My best guess is that we missed a few terrorists during our sweep. They must have rigged our vans with incendiary charges. Explosives mixed with thermite, or phosphorous, or something similar. That's why the heat was so intense. In this situation they were probably designed to eliminate any trace of forensic evidence. There's nothing left of the vans but…" he shrugged, "Ash and slag. The tunnel will be shut down for days while they inspect it. Weeks if they find damage to the concrete and rebar, which they probably will. We were lucky though. Casualties were light. It could have been a lot worse."

She finally made eye contact with him.

"No," she said in an unsteady voice. "No…" She took a deep, shaky breath, let it out. "No, casualties were total."

"I'm sorry, Kim," he said, laying a hand on her shoulder. She shoved it away. She was still partially in shock, with no capacity for grief right now. But plenty of room for anger.

"Don't touch me! This is _your_ fault!"

"Kim, I-"

"No!" She screamed, standing suddenly and startling the EMT. "He shouldn't have been in there! You knew who we were! You said so! You should've just left us alone!"

"Kim, I'm sorry. I had no choice."

"Liar!" She attacked him. "Liar!" He held his ground, allowing her to pound his arms and chest.

"You're lying about everything! He shouldn't have been in there! It's your fault he's dead! Yours!"

Two of Majors' men grabbed her from behind and she focused on them, struggling to escape their grasp.

"Let me go! Let go you assholes! You sons of bitches! Let go! Let _go!_ It's your fault he's dead!"

Those two words finally hit home and her knees buckled as grief consumed her as suddenly and ferociously as fire had the vans and she fell to the ground, wailing.

"He's dead! Oh, God, he's dead! God help me!" Her voice fell to just above a whisper. " Help me."

She screamed at the pain, a long, lonesome scream that devolved into sobs. The EMT walked up and wrapped a blanket around her shoulders. Having no one else, she clung to him and wept uncontrollably. Majors wisely let her be.

* * *

Dr. James Possible looked up as the telephone began ringing. Despite what was happening on the TV, they were in fairly good spirits, Kim's adventures had made them resilient. But for some reason he couldn't define, the ringing sounded cold, ominous. He thought it was just his imagination, but when he looked up his wife was regarding the ringing phone with the same look of dread. Anne got up and lifted the receiver.

"Hello?"

He waited apprehensively and breathed a sigh of relief when her face lit up.

"Kim!"

But almost immediately it fell again.

"Kim, what's wrong?"

Again he watched and waited. For several minutes her face was merely a mask of shock and worry. Then suddenly her eyes widened in fear and then closed as her face became lined with anguish. She covered her mouth with her free hand and her shoulders fell under the sudden weight of a heavy emotional burden. She didn't open her eyes when she said, "Oh, Kim. No."

Opening her eyes, she locked gazes with her husband, and though she managed to keep it from her voice, tears flowed.

"Oh, sweetie, I know you did. We all did."

Another tear filled silence and James knew that something awful had occurred.

"Come home, Kimmie. We're waiting for you…I love you too, sweetheart. So does your Dad…We'll see you soon."

She hung up and looked at the floor, momentarily unable to speak.

"Anne?"

After another moment, she looked up again; glad the twins were away. Glad for the time to adjust before having to tell them as well.

"It's Ron. He…he's gone." The pent up sobs finally broke loose. "Killed in the tunnel."

She fled into her husband's arms, attempting to take solace there. They held each other, attempting to console each other for an inconsolable loss.

* * *

Majors placed Kim on a government Learjet at JFK and had her flown back to Middleton. She hadn't spoke a word since talking to her mother by phone, could not speak when they met her at Middleton airport, could only cry in their arms. She was denied even the comfort of home, as it would be some time yet before their house was rebuilt. But before she could even take solace in her temporary home, she was first required to stop at Ron's parents' house and break the news to them. Watching the van burn was the only thing in her life she had done that was harder than that.

She discovered that there was no relief to be found in her hometown, in fact the reverse was true. For days, she was forced to constantly tell people who hadn't yet heard the news, tell the story again to people who had; each time peeling off the scab that had just started to form.

A week later, Majors appeared at her door with an urn.

"Understand, Kim," he told her, "This is probably just random ash. There was literally nothing left, nothing to even identify which part of the van was which. We did find this though."

He held out a small device just larger than a grain of wild rice. Kim recognized it immediately despite its melted appearance. She had a similar subcutaneous transponder implanted in her arm. Wade had bragged they were completely indestructible. Apparently he hadn't been just bragging.

"Most of the ash here is from the area where we found that. That's the best we can give you. I'm sorry."

After that, Kim locked herself in her room. For weeks, she went nowhere, spoke to no one. Ate little while the grief ate away at her. She wasted away to a skeletal 85 pounds. Faced with no other choice, her parents had her committed. She went without comment, without resistance, her face a blank page. The vitality completely drained from her. For all intents and purposes, Kim Possible, like her lifelong friend, partner, and lover, was dead.


	3. Chapter 3: Letters for the Lost

_August 21__st_

_Dear Ron,_

_Dr. Burrows is making me keep a journal. I'm supposed to write in it every day. Even if it's just one sentence. But I don't think I can do that. I think though that I can write a letter to you every day. Yeah, I think I can do that._

_Dr. Burrows thinks it will help me deal with the grief. I've tried to tell him that I don't _want_ to deal with the grief. That I can't. He nods his head, smiles, tells me I can. That I just have to give it more time. He doesn't understand. No one does._

_I did finally manage to get them to let me have Rufus. "Eat," they're always saying. "Eat this, eat that." I don't want to eat. I'm not hungry. Never hungry. But I promised them I would eat if they let me have Rufus. He's all I have left of you. He's taking it almost as hard as I am. He was the one comfort I had, and when they brought me here, they took him away. But I've got him back now. That's something anyway. Guess I'll go tell him about this journal thing. I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

_August 30__th_

_Dear Ron,_

_These people here are infuriating. They won't leave me alone. They won't listen to me. They try to tell me they understand. How can they? They just talk and talk and talk. Never listen. I've asked Dr. Burrows who _he's_ lost. His grandmother. His great aunt. Ha! He's not even married. Doesn't have a girlfriend. How can _he_ possibly understand? He just smiles that plastic smile and patronizes me. One of these days I'm just going to have a row with him. Try to give him a taste of the pain I feel._

_On top of it all, Rufus is sick. Mom took him to the vet. They said there was nothing wrong with him. They don't understand either. It's so frustrating. How can people think that their "higher education" gives them the ability to understand such a life-shattering event when they've never experienced anything like it? I'd like to see some husband tell his wife he knows how she feels right before she delivers a baby. Talk about the circle of life. One life would begin at the same moment another ended._

_Dr. Burrows laughed at that analogy. Said it wasn't the same thing. I walked out on him. I'm starting to do that more and more. But who wants to sit around talking to a wall? If he'd just _listen_ to me it would be different. I think I'm just going to stop talking to him altogether. I miss you, and I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

_September 7__th_

_Dear Ron,_

_They finally gave me a new doctor, Dr. Sedin. They must have thought I was kidding when I told them I wouldn't talk to Dr. Burrows anymore. It took them a week. And it pissed him off something fierce when I told him that I thought he should take his degree and wipe his ass with it so that it would match his ability as a doctor. But good. Fuck him._

_I can almost see your shocked expression. Hear you say "Kim, such language!" But I've found that it can sometimes be the best way to express an emotion._

_Dr. Sedin was certainly a surprise. He can't be much older than me. Our session today, he simply sat, looking around. He didn't say a word. I didn't say a word. Finally, just before it was time for me to leave I asked him "So that's it? You're not even going to try?" "Kim," he told me, "You said that Dr. Burrows didn't listen to you. But I'm not Dr. Burrows. I _will_ listen to you. And I'll never judge you. Now I can't listen if you have nothing to say, but I can sit with you until you do." I think I like him. I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

_September 8__th_

_Dear Ron,_

_Your Dad stopped by today to see how I was doing. I haven't seen either of your parents since the day I had to tell them about you. He seemed subdued, aloof, even for him. Losing your only son can do that to a man, I guess. It's funny how I never became a part of your family the way you became a part of mine. You'd think something like this would bring us closer, but I think it's pushed us apart. Maybe they blame me. I wouldn't blame them if they did._

_Rufus is getting worse. I don't think he's going to make it. I don't know what I'll do if I lose him. He's all that's left of you. The only living connection to you that I can touch. I'm so worried. Oh, Ron, I never told you but there were times that I just _hated_ him. Especially at first. I'm so sorry but I did. Now I think back on those times and I'm so ashamed. He's so unique. So brave. He loves unconditionally. It's such a rare thing in this world._

_I asked Dr. Sedin today if he'd ever lost anyone. After he thought a moment he said, "Yes. When I was seven our dog got hit by a car." It made me so mad. I lost it. Tore him a new one. The whole time he just sat there, looking me in the eyes, taking it. When I was done I thought he was going to make some patronizing remark but he said "Kim, I promised I would listen to anything you had to say. But you must also promise to listen to me." I realized that he's been keeping his promise. The whole time I was ranting he was listening to me. Completely. So I agreed._

_He told me how he had taken the dog on a walk by himself for the first time, and despite explicit instructions not to, he took off the dog's leash, believing he could control him with his voice. The moment he was free the dog ran straight into traffic and was run over. He told me how guilty he felt, how heartbroken he was, how he grieved for weeks. Then he told me about his identical twin brother, about how they were as close as any two human beings could ever be. And how he sometimes tries to imagine, when dealing with patients like me, how it would feel to scale up the pain he felt over that dog, even though it was just a dog, to the scale that would fit his brother._

_"But I can't," he said. "And even if I could, I don't think I'd want to. I can't understand what you're going through, Kim, and I hope I never do. But that doesn't mean I can't help you." And then he ended the session. I think he must have understood that I would need time to process that. Maybe he can help me. If anyone can. Love always,_

_Kim_

* * *

_September 10__th_

_Dear Ron,_

_Sorry I didn't write yesterday. I know I promised I would write every day but…Well, Rufus is gone. I woke up yesterday and…_

_I cried all day. All night. Dr. Sedin didn't make me go to session, but he did come to my room and sit with me for a while. No one seems to understand why I'm so broken up over a naked mole rat. But I couldn't care less about what they think._

_I feel much better today, though. It surprises me. I thought I'd feel the same way I felt after I lost you. Dr. Sedin says it's because I'm healing. I don't know about that._

_The good news is that the house is finally finished. Mom and Dad say it's weird, though, how it's just like the old one except no momentos, no trinkets, no pictures on the walls. And it doesn't feel lived in. Yet. It's strange to think that you'll never walk those halls. Everything is strange without you. It's like I'm in some parallel universe where everything looks the same but is just a little bit different. Just a little bit off. I guess it will feel that way the rest of my life. I miss you so much, Ron. And I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

_September 21__st_

_Dear Ron,_

_Dr. Sedin asked me today if I was still keeping a journal. I almost just said yes and left it at that. But I feel like I can trust him now. So I told him I was writing you letters. I thought he wouldn't like that, but he thought it was a good thing. He wanted to know if I wrote every day, and I told him I did. We talked about what kind of things I tell you, the tone I use. He asked if I thought the letters out or if I just let the words flow from the pen. No, I don't think them out. No more than if you were beside me and we were just talking like we used to. Oh, God, I miss talking to you Ron. I miss hearing your voice. I miss your kind heart, your devil-may-care attitude. I miss the way you held me, kissed me. I miss everything. I've lost a part of myself, perhaps the better part. And I don't know how to live anymore. I don't know how to live without you. I don_

* * *

_September 22__nd_

_Dear Ron,_

_Dr. Sedin and I talked for almost two hours today. About nothing really. Mostly about life at Middleton High. I talked a lot about cheer practice, fighting with Bonnie all the time. About Mr. Barkin. But mostly about you. About that great sophomore year when we had every class together. About visiting Nana in Miami. We talked for a while about that mission you went on with Yuri where I went so green-eyed. Yes, I'm finally admitting that. I was _so_ jealous. I guess I just always thought of you as being off-limits to everyone else, even though we weren't dating. I mean you weren't that popular and girls never really paid any attention to you anyway, not like that._

_Oh, Ron I am so sorry. I was always so mean to you. I know you would argue with me, but I was. Even though you were my best friend I was sometimes embarrassed to be seen with you. I was so stuck up, so petty. I wish I could take it all back. Sometimes I wish, just for a second, that I had never known you, then I wouldn't be feeling such pain now, and then I feel so horrible. You were the best thing that ever happened to me. I wish I could go back in time and be nicer to you, because you were always so nice to me, no matter how stuck up and snooty I was acting. I wish…I wish you were still here. I wish I could stop us from going on that mission._

_It's my fault, Ron. It's my fault you're dead. If I hadn't taken you with me. If I had never had you as my sidekick. If I had just been more insistent with Majors that we ride together. Then you would still be here. Or at least we'd still be together. But you're not, we're not and it's all my fault. And I don't know if I can live with myself knowing that my arrogance, my belief that "I can do anything", is the reason you're dead. I should be the one who's dead. Not you. Not you._

_I need you so much right now, Ron. I need to talk to you. I need you to reassure me. I miss you so much._

_Love,_

_Kim_

* * *

_September 23rd_

_Dear Ron,_

_Dr. Sedin says that I've had a breakthrough. That finally admitting my guilt, which he says is unfounded, is the first step back. I think this might be the one thing he won't understand. That it really _is_ my fault. But he says not to worry, that things will go quickly now. I still can't convince him that I know that the grief is bad for me, but that the grief is all I have. I don't want to get over it. He says I'll get over that. I don't know._

_Sorry I'm so short tonight, but I'm really tired. I don't know why but I feel like I've run a marathon. I hope I dream of you. I usually do. Have I told you that before? Anyway, I miss you and I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

_October 1__st_

_Dear Ron,_

_I went outside today. The first time since they brought me here. It was sunny and warm. The trees are turning. They were so pretty. I was a little shocked at myself. I'm so pale. I had no idea. I guess I just haven't been paying attention. And I'm eating well again. I'm back over a hundred pounds. I knew I was really skinny there for a while, but I didn't care. And I wasn't hungry. Wasn't ever hungry._

_You'll really love this: I had Mom and Dad bring me Bueno Nacho for lunch. A naco combo, grande sized of course. I couldn't eat it all, but it made me think of all the time we spent there. I'm really going to miss going there with you._

_Dr. Sedin says I'm progressing excellently. He thinks I may be able to go home soon. I hope so. I miss home. And I miss you._

_Love,_

_Kim_

* * *

_October 17__th_

_Dear Ron,_

_They're sending me home tomorrow. I can't wait. I need to get back to a normal routine. Dr. Sedin is so proud of me. To be honest, I'm a little proud of myself. I never thought I would be this way again. There's still this huge hole in me. There always will be. But I think I'm finally learning how to live without you. It's hard. The hardest thing I've ever done, but I know you don't want me wasting away in an institution, dwelling on the past. I'll still be meeting with Dr. Sedin. Twice a week at first, then we'll see._

_I still blame myself for your death. Not like I used to. And I've forgiven myself. Dr. Sedin says that's the most important thing. He still thinks that I shouldn't blame myself at all, but how can I not? There are so many reasons why I should. But he says that if I can forgive myself for it, that's good enough._

_I asked him if I could still write to you, or if he thought I should stop. He said that as long as I felt it was doing me any good to keep doing it. I was happy with that, because I would have kept writing anyway. I think I always will. I love you._

_Kim_

* * *

The room was poorly lit. It was probably a good thing, though; he had a terrible headache and bright light would only have made it worse. He had no idea where he was, how he got there. For a moment, he could hear nothing. Then footfalls. Heavy. A face appeared out of the gloom.

"Welcome, Mr. Stoppable," said Lee Majors. "Good of you to join us."


	4. Chapter 4: Regenesis

"What's going on here?" Ron asked. "Where are we? Where's Kim?"

"Kim is at this very moment on board a Company Learjet, headed home with a very heavy heart. Where we are is not of particular importance. As for what's going on here, well let's just say that you've just changed careers."

"What are you talking about?"

"I was very impressed with your little fireworks show earlier. So much so that I decided that your talents would be needed here. So I recruited you."

"Well I didn't ask to be recruited. I don't want to be recruited. I'm going home."

He stood and Majors shoved him roughly back into the chair.

"I'm afraid you don't understand, Ronald. You _are_ home."

"This can't be Middleton."

"Oh, it's not. But Middleton isn't a place you'll ever be seeing again. I'm sorry to be the one to tell you this Ron, but you're a dead man."

"I'm not scared of your threats."

"It's not a threat. It's the simple truth. You see, Ronald Stoppable was killed in a terrorist bombing in the Holland Tunnel almost nine hours ago."

"What are you talking about?"

"Let me explain. After we switched you and Kim, we went one way, you went another. Neither of you were the wiser since Kim had no view outside the van and you were, conveniently, unconscious. You'll notice the sore spot on your right biceps where we administered the sedative. We had another van take position behind the one Kim and I were riding in. It was completely automated, linked with telemetry from our van. It automatically stayed half a car length behind us, matched our speed, and matched any maneuver we made.

"Both vans were rigged with incendiary explosives while you and Kim waited on us to finish our recovery operation. Shortly after we entered the Holland Tunnel, the charge on the automated van was detonated. Twenty seconds later, just enough time for us to get out, the charge on our van was detonated. As far as she was able to tell, she watched you and my team be incinerated."

Ron was speechless with shock.

"So as I said before, Ron Stoppable is dead. Your death certificate has already been written, signed, and notarized. Kim believes you to be dead, and so she will tell everyone else that you are."

"They'll know we weren't in there."

"Incendiary charges, Ron. A fire so hot that it melted the frame into slag, and turned anything not made of metal to ash. There wouldn't be any evidence you were in the van even if you actually _were_ in the van."

"She'll never believe it. She'll come looking for me. And she'll know right where to find me."

"Perhaps you mean this?"

He held up his hand. Ron's transponder was between his thumb and forefinger.

"Ingenious little device, this. Runs off the electrical current generated by the human body. Which means as soon as we removed it from your arm, it stopped transmitting. Indestructible. We tried. But that gave me an even better idea. I'm going to deliver it to Kim next week at the same time I deliver your 'ashes'."

"You're a monster."

"I have to be. It's my job. Face it, Ron. Your life is over. You can either let it end, or you can let us give you a new one."

"What do you want from me?"

"I told you. This power you have. What is it? Where does it come from?"

"I don't know. Even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"I don't believe you, Ron. But I'll let it go for now. Tell me, who is Sensei? Does he know?"

He smiled at Ron's shocked expression, but Ron said nothing.

"You might as well tell us who he is. We'll find him."

Ron smiled. "No you won't. Not if he doesn't want to be found. And he won't want to be."

"Ron, by the time he knows we're coming, it'll be too late."

"He already knows. He senses it. And the sense will get stronger as you get closer."

Majors stared at him, recognizing truth in his eyes.

"Perhaps," he conceded.

"You might as well let me go, Majors. I'm not going to cooperate with you."

"Oh, but you will. I guarantee it."

"Never."

"Now, Ron, you don't want to be dead for real do you?"

"You won't kill me. You need me."

Majors leaned in close, almost nose to nose, and stared deep in Ron's eyes, perhaps testing his resolve. Then he stood up and began walking slow circles around Ron.

"Kim loves you…oh, I'm sorry. I mean Kim _loved…_you very much. She told me so. And I'm quite sure you love her as well. You should know that your failure to cooperate with us would be very hazardous to Kim's health."

"You wouldn't."

Majors laughed. It was an ugly sound.

"Ronald, Ronald, Ronald. Perhaps you've not been paying attention. Nine hours ago I killed three people, not including you, injured dozens of others, and rendered the Holland Tunnel useless for the foreseeable future, pretty much fucking a whole lot of people who have to travel to and from Manhattan on a regular basis. Do you really think Kim's life means anything more to me than an effective means of guaranteeing your cooperation? But we won't kill her. Not unless we have to. Mug her, sure. Beat her, no problem." He paused dramatically. "Rape her…." He made an amused sound that was half snort, half laugh. "I have men who would _love_ to get that assignment." He leaned close from behind him, putting his mouth next to Ron's ear and spoke in a sinister whisper. "She _is_ absolutely beautiful. Isn't she." He held that position quietly for a long moment looming even though he was bent over, then stood and resumed circling. "Her life is going to be most unfortunate, and it will be your fault. You'll see firsthand because we'll bring you footage. And trust me, we can easily force you to watch it."

"I don't believe you. The NSA would never endorse something like that."

He laughed again. "Are you always this amusing? Ron, I don't work for the NSA. My organization doesn't even _have_ letters. NSA was just the ID I happened to pick up this morning. It could have been FBI, CIA, hell, even UPS if I'd wanted. Trust me, Ron, I can and will do whatever it takes."

Ron's voice was ice cold. "Okay, so you know what I can do. And you know how much I love Kim. So believe _me_, if you harm one hair on Kim's head-"

"You'll what? Kill me? Kill everyone involved? Take down the whole organization? So what? Kim will be just as dead. And to save her, all you have to do is cooperate with me. Is that _really_ so much to ask? Tell you what. I'll give you some time to think about it."

He gestured and two men came out of the shadows.

"Lock him up."

They grabbed Ron by his arms and lifted him from the chair. As though a switch was thrown the room was suddenly filled with blue-white light. Ron loosed a primal scream that mixed with the sound of a thousand angry monkeys. Fast as a bolt of lightning, he broke their hold on them and crashed their heads together. There was a sickening crunch as their skulls imploded against one another. They crumpled to the floor.

Majors whirled, in a smooth motion drawing his sidearm. He fired at Ron nearly point blank. The bullet traveled less than a foot and stopped, hovering in midair two inches in front of Ron's chest. It remained in that relative position, moving with Ron as he advanced on Majors, who backpedaled away from him.

"Do you _really_ think I'm going to let you keep me here? I'll be honest with you; these powers are a relatively new thing. I'm not sure what their limits are. But I could try them out on you. It could be fun."

"I'm warning you, Stoppable."

"I'm not concerned with your warnings. I'll get to Kim first. I'll protect her."

He backed Majors against the wall. Despite the man's eight-inch height and hundred pound advantage, Ron grabbed his throat and lifted him off the ground.

"Haven't you ever heard that it's unwise to awaken a sleeping giant?"

Majors laughed, as much as he could while being throttled.

"You don't get it, do you? I'm not planning on ordering Kim's death. That's been done already. My job is to call certain people, at certain times, and _prevent_ Kim's execution."

"You lie!" His hand tightened around Majors' throat.

"If you don't…believe me…just…wait a while."

After several infuriated moments, Ron released Majors and he crashed to the floor, gasping. He picked himself up.

"So you see?" he said, struggling to catch his breath. "The only way to protect Kim is to cooperate. We give you a new identity, a little reconstructive surgery, the best training available in the world, and you get to help us protect America. And that, in turn, protects Kim. What do you say?"

Ron glared at him.

"What do you think?"

Majors' smile was colder than any reptile's.

* * *

Laz Heatherly crouched in the dark, watching his breath plume in front of him. It seemed odd; to be in the middle of a desert and the temperature was near freezing. But he was outfitted in full body armor, and they had been moving at some speed so he wasn't cold. He was breathing heavily, but quietly.

He flipped down the night vision lenses from his helmet and surveyed the terrain while he waited for the signal to move in. The cave was roughly forty feet ahead. It looked innocent enough. Rumor had it several of Bin Laden's top lieutenants were holed up there. Laz knew better though. If there _were_ any terrorists in there it would be an amazing coincidence.

He flipped the lenses back up and checked his weapon. He knew he wouldn't need it but the action was reflexive, not a conscious decision. A moment later, the team leader's voice whispered through his earpiece.

"Red Team, go now."

From a small stand of scrub twelve feet to his left, two huddled figures started running in a crouch towards the cave. After ten seconds, the radio whispered again.

"Blue Team, go now."

Laz started forward, his partner right behind him.

"Green Team advancing now."

Red Team took position to the left of the mouth of the cave, Blue to the right. Green advanced past them, taking positions on either side just inside the mouth of the cave. After several moments, with no immediate threat, a voice came from out of the darkness just to Laz's right.

"All right Laz, you're up."

He slowly advanced past the rest of the team, disappearing into the pitch-blackness. After roughly two hundred feet, he reached the back of the cave. As expected, no one was there.

"All clear!" he called out

He heard the rest of the team approaching, then the bright beam of a flashlight cut through the darkness. The team leader looked around at the dead end.

"I don't get it," he said. "Our intel was rock solid. Unimpeachable. This place should be crawling with ragheads. What the hell happened?"

"Simple," Laz said. "The intel was manufactured."

In a fluid motion, Laz raised his M249 and shot the man standing beside the team leader point blank in the forehead. The man crumpled to the earth. The rest of the team trained their weapons at the team leader.

"Lazarus, what the hell are you doing? You men stand down!"

The flashlight was slowly becoming unnecessary as a blue-white glow filled the chamber.

"I've been waiting a long time for this day, Majors." Laz said "Five long years, waiting, hoping, _praying_ for this moment. And now it's finally here."

Majors raised his rifle but it was yanked away by an unseen force and clattered to the ground somewhere in the darkness. He attacked hand to hand, but Laz easily defended himself and Majors found himself on the ground, Laz's boot pressing firmly on his throat.

"My name, Majors. Say it," he said, slinging the 249.

"Lazarus! Lazarus Heatherly!"

"That's _not_ my name."

"Yes it is. That boy's been dead five years."

Laz stepped harder on Majors' throat.

"Say my name. _Say it!_"

"Ron! Ron Stoppable!"

The glow surrounding him intensified. The silent cave suddenly sounded like a jungle. He spread his arms and Majors rose from the ground.

"It's really kind of cool. It's like having the force sometimes!"

Majors began to whirl in the air. He suddenly shot up, colliding hard into the ceiling.

"Ron, think about Kim!" Majors shouted desperately.

"I've done nothing _but_ think about Kim since you took her from me. She'll be fine. I know how to save her now. You've taught me well. I have to give you that."

He turned and Majors flew through the air, smashing into the opposite wall. He cried out in pain and fear.

"I have resources you don't know about! She'll be dead before you can get to her!"

The intense light in the cave dimmed dramatically and Majors hit the dirt face first from a height of seven feet. Laz walked over to him, kicked him onto his back, and put his boot back on the man's throat. He was loath to touch him.

"I'll not be your trained chimp anymore, Majors. You know, I spent a lot of time trying to decide how I was going to kill you. I wanted it to be slow. Painful. But then I realized that something like that would just turn me into you. You're a real piece of shit, Majors. A sick, diseased, degenerate monster. A slow death is something you deserve. But it's not my place to give it to you. I'm simply going to exterminate you."

Laz increased the pressure he was putting on Majors' throat until he was almost standing on him. Majors made pathetic choking sounds as he struggled against him. Finally, with a sickening crunch, his windpipe collapsed and Laz stepped back. Majors continued to try to suck air through his ruined throat. Laz wanted to leave him like that, wanted him to writhe on the ground suffocating slowly and painfully. But he had meant what he said. He drew his Glock and pointed it at Majors' face.

"Rot in hell you sick fuck."

He meant only to shoot him once, but he was suddenly dry firing the pistol, having emptied the clip into Majors' face. There was little left of the man's head. Despite himself, Laz spat on the corpse. One of his team stepped up and clapped him on the back.

"Come on, Ron. Let's get on with it."

He shook his head. "No. Majors was right about one thing. Ron Stoppable is dead. My name is Lazarus."

He ejected the empty magazine and snapped a fresh one into place.

"Let's go. We don't have much time."


	5. Chapter 5: Revelations

Kim fumbled her keys out of her pocketbook and managed to get the correct one into the lock without dropping the bag of groceries. She pushed the door open with her hip, stepped inside, and kicked it closed. The short hallway led to a counter adjacent to the kitchen where she set the paper bag down.

Hanging on the wall across from her, where it was always the first thing she saw when entering the apartment, was a picture taken of her and Ron at the Junior Prom, dancing their first dance as a couple. As usual, she wasn't quite sure how long she stared at it before turning away. Sometimes she looked only briefly. Other times she would turn from the picture and realize she had been staring for five, six, sometimes ten minutes.

She kicked off her pumps and walked to the desk in the corner where she took the stack of phonics tests out of her satchel and leafed through them before setting them down. She still found it weird sometimes to think of herself as a second grade teacher at Middleton Elementary.

Back before her first life ended, she would have laughed at the concept. She had been certain that she would still be saving the world at twenty-four, and far beyond. But then everything changed.

She tried to keep her plans on track. She enrolled in the Criminal Justice program at Kansas State in January, following her release from the hospital. She didn't last the semester. So she tried the police academy. She didn't graduate. Adrift, uncertain about her future, she went back to babysitting to make enough money to keep herself up. She found that she enjoyed that work more than she ever had. The children were laid back, peaceful compared to hero work. And simple. She realized she needed simple.

She returned to Kansas State, majoring in Teaching Education and minoring in child development. She applied herself with a passion she hadn't felt since Ron's death and earned her Bachelor's Degree in only three years. At first she taught kindergarten, but found that to be too simple. She was six weeks into her first year in the second grade and felt she had found the perfect niche.

She turned and started down the hall towards the bathroom when a man stepped out of her bedroom in front of her. Tall. Muscled like a bodybuilder. Thick black hair. Yellow eyes like a serpent. He smiled a cold smile.

It had been five years since she had fought anyone but she took a defensive position that felt as natural as ever. Without a word, the man attacked her. She discovered, not surprisingly, that her skills were rusted. Practically useless. In less than a minute she was pinned beneath him.

"You're a pretty little thing," he breathed into her ear. "Prettier than your picture."

She felt his hand travel along her torso. He cupped her breast, squeezed hard making her cry out.

"They said not to have any fun with you first, but I don't think I can resist."

She struggled against him, but he pressed down on her even harder, ground into her with his hips and she could feel his arousal. She tried to push him off but he easily weighed a hundred and fifty pounds more than she did. It was like having a boulder on top of her.

"Yes, very pretty." His hand slid from her breast, down her belly and began clawing at the button to her pants. She didn't know why she didn't scream. She squirmed with all her strength but couldn't dislodge him as he popped the button on her pants and slid his hand under the waistband of her panties. She could hear herself whimpering like a child.

There was a loud crash and the door to her apartment flew open. Her attacker was almost instantly on his feet. Kim rolled away from him and curled into a ball against the couch as whoever had broken down the door crashed into the man with the snaky eyes. They tumbled into a heap, rolling around, clawing at each other. The new person gained position on her attacker; shoulder threw him into the dining room where he crashed into the table. He was quickly on his feet again but the other man quickly drew a large pistol and shot him three times, center mass.

The shots were soft, not as loud as a balloon popping. Kim realized the gun looked so large because it had a silencer screwed onto the barrel. The shot man fell hard to the ground and was still. The new man turned to her. He was about her height. Brown eyes. Strong chin and high cheekbones. Buzz cut blonde hair. Severely trimmed goatee. He came towards her.

"Who…who are you?"

He extended his hand towards her.

"You must come with me. Quickly."

His voice was strangely accented, yet for some reason familiar.

"What do you want?"

"To help you. You're in great danger. But there's no time to explain. You must come with me now."

"I can't…don't…"

"Kim, you were once vibrant. Alive. You're a shade of your old self. But you must find that person, that heroine you were. You'll need her soon. But now we have to run. Please."

"Who are you?" she asked again.

"My name is Lazarus. Trust me. I only want to protect you. Come with me now. We're out of time."

She took his hand and he pulled her to her feet, practically dragging her from the apartment and down the stairs. They crashed through the front door to her building and into the parking lot where Lazarus mounted a sleek black Honda CBR 1000 and urged her to climb on behind him.

"But…no helmet."

"Crashing is the least of our worries. Get _on_!"

The window of the car next to them shattered as a bullet tore into it. She needed no further persuasion and she vaulted onto the tiny rear seat.

"Hold on tight!"

The engine roared and the bike shot out of the parking lot. As they carved a turn onto the street, two Crown Vics came tearing around the corner half a block down. Laz leaned the bike over the other way, almost on its side, and turned away from them.

On the open road, the cruisers, even with pursuit engines, would never catch them, but the streets of Middleton now worked against them. They were able to stay ahead of their pursuers, but only barely.

Insanely, at the next intersection, Laz swerved around the divided median and into the opposite lane of traffic. Horns blared, the oncoming cars swerved, and Laz swung the bike left and right, flying by cars at closing speeds well over 100mph. A roar from above drowned out the screaming engine and Kim looked up. A Bell 407 helicopter swooped over them. Men dressed in riot gear hung out of the open door, strapped to supports inside the chopper. They held machine guns.

_This can't be happening!_ Kim thought. _It's like something out of an action movie and _I'm_ the damsel in distress!_

In a maneuver that nearly unseated her from the bike, Laz braked hard, carved a tight, rubber burning 180-degree turn and they shot off going the opposite way. Even the helicopter couldn't easily follow such a maneuver and the cruisers were left in the distance. They immediately crashed across the concrete median but Laz was half a mile in front of them in no time. He carved left, right, left at suicidal speeds, then took another hard left, zooming around the wooden barrier arm into a parking garage. The bike screamed to a halt and the aroma of scorched rubber assaulted Kim's nose.

"Come on, get _off_!"

She climbed unsteadily from the motorcycle and Laz dismounted as soon as she was clear, grabbed her arm and dragged her towards a nondescript white conversion van. Kim halted so suddenly she almost made marks on the concrete herself. Laz turned to her, sympathy in his eyes.

"Look, I know what you're thinking, and I'm sorry, but it was all we had."

Kim stared at the van, rooted to the ground, at the moment not grasping the knowledge Laz's statement implied he had. Laz sighed and swept her into his arms. As he approached the van, the rear doors swung open. He handed Kim to one of the men inside, climbed aboard, and pulled the doors shut as the van took off.

"A little hairy, huh?" One of the men asked.

"Another minute would have been bad, another ten would have been too late. How we doin'?"

"They're on us like stink on shit. Roadblocks are already going up. Local police just got involved."

"The airport?"

"Not yet."

"Well let's hope it stays that way for ten more minutes." He looked over at Kim. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

"I don't…understand. Who are those people? Who are you?"

"They're a black budget group. Evil twin to the three letters agencies. Unofficially, they're called Black Briar. We used to be a part of them. Now we're fighting against them."

"But why me? Why are they after me?"

Laz looked at the floor. "Because of me."

"But I don't know you. What have you got to do with me?" Her voice began to rise. "How do you know my name? How do you know things about me? What the _hell_ is going on here?"

Laz smiled. "Now _there's_ the old Kim."

She shot him a look that once would have ripped his spine out. He felt a pang of sadness to find it was no longer effective.

"I'm sorry, Kim. As I said, I'll explain everything. But it's too complicated right now. I know it's hard, but you have to trust me. Can you trust me?'

She stared into his eyes. Eyes that were hauntingly familiar. Eyes that she felt she knew somehow. She saw reason there to trust him. She took a deep breath.

"Yes. I can trust you."

"Good." He looked into the cab. "Steve-o, how we doin?"

"So far so good. No signs of pursuit. And that air unit's gone right over the top us a couple of-whoa!"

The van rocked as one of the cars that been chasing them shot past, almost trading paint with them.

"Boy he looked _pissed_," Steve said.

Laz smiled. "Brian?"

The man sitting across from Laz removed a set of earphones from his head. "Got all their com traffic. They're still looking for the bike. Orders just went out to start checking rental agencies in the area."

"We'll be long gone by then. Jake?"

The last man was typing furiously on a laptop. "Still workin' on it."

"Well get on it. We don't have much time."

"What's he doing?" Kim asked.

"The unit commander will be in that chopper, and he'll be uplinked to Black Briar's central computer in Vermont. Jake is trying to piggyback that link so he can grab some files that might keep us safe, give us a little leverage to accomplish our goals."

"Safe? How many of you are there?"

Laz gave her a wry smile. "Just us."

Kim looked around, pain and confusion on her face. "I…I don't understand."

Laz took her hand and squeezed it reassuringly. "You will. Just give us a little time."

The next few minutes were quiet until the van lurched into the airport parking lot.

"Okay, Kim. Remember. Act normal. Airport personnel are trained to keep their heads up. They see a bunch of scared, fidgety people trying to board an airplane looking like they're in an awful hurry, they're liable to report it. They're already probably a little suspicious because we paid for our fuel with cash. But once we get in the air we're home free."

She nodded and they got out as nonchalantly as they could. Kim suddenly remembered she was in her stocking feet.

"Uh, Kim," Laz said. She looked at him and he tipped his head toward her waist and cleared his throat. She flushed, half in embarrassment, half in fear of how close she had come to being raped, and fastened her pants. They walked through the terminal and out to a Piper Cheyenne painted in a green and brown pattern that was just barely not camouflage. Laz walked around it in an abbreviated pre-flight and had everyone board. He climbed into the cockpit and strapped into the left seat, putting on his headset and turning on the radios before he started his pre-start checklist. The radio was tuned to the ASOS. After a moment of silence, a pleasant computerized male voice began speaking.

"Middleton Downtown Airport automated weather observation, information Kilo. Two-three-four-seven zulu. Wind zero two zero at seven. Eight thousand, two hundred broken, nine thousand, one hundred scattered. Visibility one zero. Altimeter three zero one five." After a few seconds the message repeated. Laz switched frequencies and started the engines.

"Ground control, four niner seven kilo papa, base of the tower, with Kilo, ready to taxi." It was almost a full minute before he got a response.

"Seven kilo papa, taxi runway zero four, contact departure on one one niner point four, advise ready for takeoff."

"Taxi zero four, contact departure point four and advise ready takeoff, seven kilo papa. Have a good day."

He increased the throttle, followed the line crew's marshalling signals off the ramp and turned down the taxiway.

"Laz!" Brian shouted from the rear. "They found the bike. Command just issued orders to hold all air traffic!"

"Shit," Laz muttered. He switched over to the departure frequency.

"Departure, seven kilo papa ready for takeoff, uh, we'd like intersection departure coming up here if possible."

"Seven kilo papa, intersection departure approved, hold short zero four."

"Hold short zero four, seven kilo papa."

He stopped at the hold short line and checked final. A CRJ was on approach. He noticed his fingers were tapping on the yoke. With an effort he stopped them. It seemed to take forever for the CRJ to make the runway. It rolled past them.

"Seven kilo papa, position and hold, intersection, zero four."

"Position and hold, seven kilo papa."

He was holding his breath. He let it out sharply as departure came back on the radio. "Seven kilo papa, Center is now holding all departing traffic. Takeoff clearance denied. Taxi back to the ramp via bravo. Sorry guys, we'll let you know what's up as soon as we do."

"Like hell," Laz muttered. He keyed the mike as he advanced the throttles to their forward stops. The CRJ was just clearing the runway.

"Uh, departure, seven kilo papa, unable to comply. You guys have yourself a pleasant evening, though. Tell the Feds we said to have a nice life."

The Cheyenne rose smoothly into the air. Laz raised the gear, turned off the radio and the transponder. He knew that if he stayed below 1500 feet ARTCC wouldn't be able to track him. He would maintain runway heading for fifteen miles, then turn south. He turned in his seat.

"Jake, you get anything?"

"A little. Not much. I'll keep poking around as long as I've got the link but at this speed we'll be out of range in less than a minute."

"We'll make do."

He returned his attention to the windscreen. Nap of the earth flying was a skill he hadn't had as much practice as he needed, at least not to be doing it in the mountains of northern Kansas, but there wasn't much choice. So far, ignoring how very close the timing had been, everything was going exactly as planned.

"Laz, turn around!" Jake suddenly shouted.

"_What?_"

"Turn around now! Quickly before I lose the link!"

Laz rolled the airplane over into a 45-degree bank and turned back towards the airport.

"What's going on, Jake?"

He laughed. "Oh, mama, I just hit the jackpot." His fingers were flying over the keyboard. "I need another thirty seconds and then we're golden."

"That's a steep order."

They were closing fast with the helicopter. It had just turned red on the Traffic Collision Avoidance System. A moment later the TCAS verbally warned him. He pulled back on the yoke ever so slightly to gain a little clearance altitude.

"Got it! We can go!" Jake shouted.

Laz immediately rolled into a left 80-degree bank and turned at a right angle to the helicopter. The Cheyenne was more then 150 knots faster than the 407 so they could never catch them, but they might be able to track them long enough to jeopardize their safety.

"Brian, keep an ear open, and Jake use the link til we loose it, try to find out if they've got a look down."

"They're calling for one right now," Brian reported.

"Jake how long we talking?"

"Five minutes, ten tops."

"They get a look down on us, we're screwed," Steve commented.

"What's a look down?" Kim asked.

"A satellite," Steve answered. "If they can get a satellite lock on us, they can follow us wherever we go. Stay right on our ass."

Brian whooped. "Best bet's on a high priority. They're moving in a secondary but it'll be twenty minutes!"

They all smiled wide. "Might as well be forever," Jake said.

"They just called in the roadblocks," Brian reported. "They're re-grouping."

"Make the call," Laz ordered.

Jake produced a cell phone and handed it to Kim.

"Call your parents. Tell them to get your brothers and get out of Middleton as quickly as possible. Go somewhere they wouldn't normally go and wait for you to contact them. They've got less than half an hour. If they're lucky."

Kim was suddenly very angry. "You've put my parents in danger too? My brothers? What's wrong with you people? Why are you doing this?"

"Kim," Jake said gently. "There's no time."

She snatched the phone angrily from his hand.

"How am I supposed to contact them if I don't know where they are?"

"Leave that to us."

She made the call. Her parents were scared and confused. The commotion had already made the local news. She assured them that everything would be okay, even though she was not at all certain of that, and urged them to move quickly, then hung up.

She sighed and looked out the window. The sun was brilliantly red as it slipped below the horizon. Scattered clouds diffused the light, creating a magnificent sunset, ethereally beautiful. She should have been able to take joy from the sight, but the events of the past half-hour had stolen the joy from her life. She had already known she didn't have much, but she was dismayed to find out just how little.

"It'll be okay, Kim," Brian told her. "Things are about to change for you. Most likely for the better, maybe for the worse, but either way the change will come with great joy. I promise."

"When are you going to tell me what's going on?"

"As soon as we land. An hour or so from now. Laz will explain everything. Right now he needs to concentrate on flying. He has to stay low and it's just about dark out there. Patience, Kim. Just a little more patience."

He left her to herself. She closed her eyes, trying to shut out everything from her awareness, letting the smooth hum of the engines encompass all that she was, and let her mind go blank.

* * *

They entered the shabby motel room and Laz closed the door behind them. The rest of the team were in the room next door.

"I'm not staying in here with you tonight," Kim told Laz.

"None of us are staying here tonight," he replied.

"Then what's going on?"

"We need to be as far away from that airplane as we can be when the sun comes up." He sat in an uncomfortable looking chair and crossed his legs, right ankle on left knee. "We're just stopping here so I can tell you what's happening."

Kim crossed her arms and faced him defiantly. "So spill."

Laz looked at the floor, a strange smile on his face. One that said he'd just visited a fond memory.

"And what is _that_?" Kim demanded. "You seem to know me, to know things about me that you've no business knowing. How?"

"I know lots about you, Kim. I know about your Cuddlebuddy collection. About the Pandaroo that even your Mom doesn't know you still have. I know that to this day, every once and a while you wonder about your driving skill because of the incident with SADIE and Dr. Freeman. I know you missed hanging out with Shego after the Electronique incident."

Kim's mouth was open in shock. She collapsed onto the bed. These were things no one alive knew but herself. Her voice trembled.

"Who _are_ you? How do you know these things?"

Laz's voice softened.

"I know where you went after the big graduation field party. What you did. I know that the lightest brush of fingertips across your shoulder blades drives you wild, sends shivers down your spine. And that you think the moon shaped birthmark on your right breast makes you look ugly, when it does anything but."

Tears flowed down Kim's face. "That's _impossible_! You can't know that!" She stamped her foot. "_You can't!_"

Laz took a deep breath. "Kim, what I'm going to tell you is going to be hard for you to hear. Even harder for you to believe." He let out a half chuckle. "All this time and I still haven't figured out a better way to say this." He took another breath. "Five years ago, you went on a mission and encountered a man named Lee Majors."

Kim inhaled sharply through her nose and sat up straight, her body stiff as a ramrod.

"A few hours later, you were involved in a bombing in the Holland Tunnel."

"I don't want to talk about this." She closed her eyes. "Not about this."

Laz pressed on. "You believe you watched a dozen members of Majors' team, along with your boyfriend, burn to death in that tunnel."

Kim was shaking her head.

"Kim…that van was empty."

Her eyes shot open. "_What?_"

"The van was empty. In fact it wasn't even the van you thought it was. The van with Ron and Majors' men went somewhere else after they switched you and Ron around. You were allowed to think Ron was dead, when in fact, Black Briar had him. They held him against his will, forced him to undergo reconstructive surgery, forced him to work for them. They hung a death sentence over you. A sword of Damocles that would fall the first time Ron stepped out of line."

"I…I don't understand. Why would they do that?"

Laz allowed his voice coaching to fall away, allowed his natural voice to come through. He stood and spread his arms. Summoned his powers and the blue-white aura that accompanied them.

"They wanted my Mystical Monkey Power."

Kim sobbed and slid from the bed onto her knees. She _knew_ Lazarus was Ron. Knew that only she and Ron knew about her Pandaroo, her driving insecurity, what they did that night after the grad party. She knew that only two people on earth had mystical monkey power, and that one of them was now a stone statue, buried deep in the Japanese mountains. She knew who stood before her, but could not make herself believe. Could only think that perhaps she was dreaming. She reached out to him tentatively, as though to touch him would shatter the dream and she would wake up in her apartment, alone.

He gently took her hand, pulled her into his arms. The embrace was as familiar as it had ever been and finally it was real. She cried as she hadn't cried since believing him dead and when she broke the embrace to look in his eyes, Ron's face was as wet as hers.

"I've missed you so much, Kim. I've dreamed of this moment for five years."

He kissed her, and though his face was different, his lips were as familiar as his embrace. She held him as tightly as she could.

"You're alive," she sobbed. "You're really here and you're alive. I almost don't believe it."

He held her for a long time, but then broke the embrace.

"We need to go." He cleared his throat, wiped his face and eyes and said with a small laugh, "Oh, but I can't let my men see me like this."

Kim touched his face. Now that she looked, she could see Ron in there.

"Your men," she said, a note of wonder in her voice. "Riding motorcycles like that, flying airplanes, _shooting_ people. You're very different. Like me."

"I'm a secret agent now, Kim." He gave her an ironic smile. "I can do anything."

They shared a small laugh and Kim hugged him tightly again until Laz broke the embrace.

"We're still very much in danger, Kim. That sword is still hanging over us, and the hair is frayed. We must go."

"I'll go anywhere with you, Ron. Anywhere as long as it's with you."

"Kim…This is going to be the hardest part of what I have to tell you." He paused, trying to think of an easy way to say it, but knowing that there wasn't one.

"Kim, Ron is gone. The sweet, innocent child that he was is gone. Majors _did_ kill that. My name is Lazarus."

"You're wrong." She looked in his eyes. "I can see him in there. Deep down. Oppressed, but waiting to be again."

He looked away. "You should call me Lazarus. Or Laz. If nothing else than for safety. What we've said up to now needed privacy, but I can tell you the rest of what's going on on the road and we need to go."

He opened the door.

"Ron…Laz. I love you. I've always loved you."

He took her hand, touched his forehead to hers.

"I love you too, Kim. I love you too. That's why I let them use me. The thought of them hurting you…I couldn't bear it."

"We're together now? No matter what?"

"No matter what." He let Ron's voice slip away. He was Laz once again. "Come on Kim. Time to go."


	6. Chapter 6: An Uncomfortable Truce

After gathering the rest of his team, they climbed into a rented Dodge Durango and headed down the highway. Steve, Brian, and Jake were different people, all smiles and good cheer. They were well aware of what had just transpired between Kim and Laz, and were happy for the reunited couple. Steve was again behind the wheel. Brian rode shotgun, Jake set up his computer in the center seat, and Kim curled herself into Laz's arms in the rear seat.

"Lazarus," she mused. "Was that your idea?"

He chuckled. "I thought it was fitting."

"Lazarus Stoppable. Bit of a contradiction, don't you think?"

"Maybe. But my name's Heatherly."

"Heatherly? Where'd you come up with that?"

"It's just as tongue in cheek as Lazarus, just not as easy to get."

"I sure don't get it."

"Think about my favorite fighter jet movie."

That was easy enough. Kim would never forget having to watch _Top Gun_ over and over and over again. So…Heatherly. After a moment of thought, she had it. Michael Ironsides' character had been Commander Heatherly. Call sign _Jester_.

"Ah, now I see. The Stoppable sense of humor is still alive and well. Too bad Majors couldn't have got that as well."

She meant it as a joke, but even though Laz probably thought nothing of it, Kim regretted it instantly. Sorrow welled up inside her and brought her to tears.

"Oh, Ron I didn't mean that. I missed it so much. I missed everything about you. You were the best thing that ever happened to me and I never let you know just how much you really meant to me. How much I needed you."

He held her as she sobbed against him.

"Shh, Kim, it's okay. Don't worry, it's okay." He whispered nonsense words in her ear, stroking her hair until her fit calmed. "It's okay."

"But it wasn't for a long time. Hasn't been since that day. It was horrible. I had to learn to live over again."

"I know. I know everything you went through. I was watching everything you did. I watched over you."

"And I think…I think somehow I knew. Somehow I could feel you. That's why I could never recover from your loss. Because I knew deep down you weren't truly gone."

Laz wiped the tears from her eyes, held her gaze for a moment and she kissed him.

"That is so sweet," Brian said.

Kim broke the kiss and whirled towards the front seat, anger flashing in her eyes bright as lightning bolts.

"Hey _fuck_ you, asshole! Try loosing the person who means the most to you, try spending five years regretting all the things you never said and then suddenly getting him back and having the opportunity to say them. I'd mount Ron on my desk in front of every eight year old in my class and to hell with the consequences if I thought it would say something to him that needed to be said."

There was a moment of tense, stunned silence in the van until Laz said:

"Wow. I love you too, babe."

There was another moment of silence. Someone made a choked sound that was an obvious attempt to hold in a chuckle and then they were all laughing uncontrollably.

"I'm sorry, Kim," Brian said. "That came out sarcastic, but I really did mean it."

"She knows," Laz said. "I think we're all just a little tense. And with good reason."

He settled back and wrapped his arm around Kim.

"Okay, Jake," he said. "What kind of jackpot did you hit that just about ruined the whole shebang?"

"Not just a jackpot, Laz. The mother lode. All of our dreams come true. I got into the financing accounts."

Laz sat up. "You're shittin' me."

"Nope. I've got the goods on where all of Black Briar's funds come from, which programs they're being funneled from, even which members of congress are doing the funneling. We've got enough to bring Black Briar crashing down, along with a major clean out of Capitol Hill."

"So we can bring them down?" Kim asked.

"We can," Laz said, settling back down with Kim. "But we're not going to. Not unless we have to."

"Why not?"

"Because it wouldn't do any good," Brian said from the front seat. "Black Briar is just one of many similar programs. The Washington black budget is a Hydra. If we chop off one head, another grows back. The information is more valuable to us if it remains a secret."

"You mean blackmail."

"Exactly," Jake said.

"You see, we're renegades," Steve said. "Very badly wanted renegades. Wanted by very bad men."

"Let me backtrack," Laz said. "When Majors first…recruited…me, he outlined very clearly the things he would do to you if I didn't cooperate. There was no way I could risk opposing him. Not then."

"I'm going to find that rat bastard," Kim said darkly.

"I doubt that."

"Why?"

"Agent Majors is currently in a very remote cave, in a very remote part of Afghanistan. And he is very, very dead."

"You?"

"Yes."

"Good."

"Anyway, so I waited. And bided my time. Put out feelers, to see who might be willing to help me when the time came. Five years, Kim. Five years. And these three men are the only ones I could find that I could trust to help me. It's a very evil organization.

"Majors kept me under pretty tight wraps the first three years. They've got a training compound in Vermont, way the hell out in the middle of nowhere. I wasn't permitted to leave the grounds. But I was learning. Weapons, explosives, tactics, hand to hand combat, counterintelligence, interrogation, anything anyone would teach me. And the whole time, developing my powers." He looked at Kim, a crooked smile on his face. "I can do some amazing things, Kim. Things you won't believe until you see them.

"But finally, they started letting me out on supervised operations. All covert, across enemy lines where attempting to break away would be worse than suicide. And Majors made it clear that my suicide…" Here he looked askance at Kim. "Believe me, I seriously considered it, thinking it might save you…would be just as hazardous to you as any other act of rebellion.

"But he started to get greedy, sloppy. He began to believe I had adjusted to my new life. That I was starting to forget you. He had no clue what it meant to truly love someone. So I started to get more freedom. He wanted to be able to use me and my special abilities to their fullest potential. He sent me out on more operations. I had more contact with the outside world. I began to plan. To make contacts. But he wasn't stupid. He built more failsafes into his insurance policy, made it easier for someone to get to you. I made it my business to find out how he was doing it, how he had it planned. And then the time came.

"We started to get some sketchy intel on top Al Qaeda movement. Vague stuff but from some of our best operatives. With Jake's help, I manipulated that information. Made it seem more specific than it really was, until it seemed that we had the exact location on the top two guys. Majors couldn't resist. He ego made him jump on it. And I knew he would want me for such a dangerous op. We boarded a C-130 and headed to make the capture."

"Headed to a very remote cave in a very remote part of Afghanistan."

Laz smiled. "Exactly. Remote enough that Majors would be out of contact for an extended period of time. He would have to call his dogs off of you for an unusually long while. He couldn't dare to miscalculate and let something happen to you. He knew I was a vat of chlorine and that your death would be a very large sodium tablet. So he had to overestimate. And that gave me my window."

He pulled Kim close and kissed her forehead. "A window that was almost too narrow. The rest you know. These people do not like to be fooled. They don't like to be embarrassed, and they don't like to be betrayed. We've done all three. They will hunt us to the ends of the earth."

"So what's the plan from here?"

"Well, it's changed a little," Jake said. "We were going to…arrange…a meeting with certain heads in Black Briar to make a deal. A risky proposition, but our only real long-term option. But now, our position has been quite fortified. We can go straight to the top. We're going to meet with someone new."

"Who've you got in mind, Jake?" Laz asked. He hadn't yet seen the information Jake had downloaded from Central.

"Well we've got several options but I thought we'd just go straight to the head of the class. The Honorable Walter J. Billingsworth."

Laz sat up so quickly he dumped Kim from his arms. "Wally Bills, the Senate Majority Leader? You're jackin' me off."

"No, sir. It's scary, the people involved in this."

Laz sat back and Kim curled back against him.

"But if Wally Bills is involved," she said, "Then the chance that the President _isn't_ involved…"

"Becomes very small," Brian finished.

"My God," Kim whispered. "So what do we do?"

"We go back to work for them," Laz said.

"_What?_"

"Kim, it's the only way. All I ever wanted out of this was you. I have that now. What I do from here on doesn't really matter. But I do kind of like the work. And you will too."

"Me? Laz, I'm a schoolteacher now."

"No you're not. Like I said at your apartment. You're a shade of the woman you once were. Beat down by life and loss. You can be her again."

"But I don't want to work for people like Black Briar. I don't see how you do. After what they did to you. To us."

"Oh, I don't. None of us do. But this whole thing's about compromise and control. We'll talk to Senator Billingsworth. We go back to work, but for FBI, CIA, whatever. Legitimate work. Honest work. That way they can keep us within arms reach. But they let you in on who I really am, as well as my parents, your parents, and the tweebs. We sign confidentiality agreements that would make disclosure to anyone else an act of high treason. Ron Stoppable stays buried. And so does our information about Black Briar, with the understanding that should anything suspicious happen to any of us, it hits CNN half an hour later."

"No," Kim said. "Not your parents, not Ron's parents."

"Why not?"

"You had a foolproof way to prove who you were to me. Knowledge that could not be obtained even by torture, simply because they were little things that a torturer wouldn't even know to ask about. And the pecualiarties of your power that only someone with direct experience would understand.

"I know your family wasn't very tight knit. It's one of the reasons you spent so much time with _my_ family. I'm not saying they didn't love you. They were devestated by your loss. But do you have something that can convince them beyond a shadow of a doubt that you are who you say you are?"

Laz mulled it over.

"My family will believe it because they'll know that _I'm_ convinced, and once they let themselves believe, they'll see it, just as I do now. I can't do that for your parents." She paused a moment. "They hate me. They blame me."

"Kim they don't. They…they can't."

"They do. Well, your Mom does. She's literally crossed the street when she saw me coming before. Your Dad I think isn't sure, but he won't talk to me. Hannah won't remember you at all. Your death changed them. They're bitter. Mad at the whole world. Even if you could convince them of who you are, you could never convince them to keep quiet. I'm sure of that."

"I always assumed that…I mean I never thought…"

"I'm sorry, Laz. But you have to trust me on this."

"I do."

A long silence stretched out. No one seemed inclined to break it. But Kim still needed one more answer.

"So where are we right now? And what do we do about my family?"

"We're currently headed north on route 169. Your family is currently headed east on route 36," Steve said.

"Where did we land? And how do you know where my family is?"

"Coffeyville," Jake said. He pointed at his computer screen. "GPS transponder. We only needed to get far enough away from Middleton for them to loose us. In fact it was best to only go as far as we absolutely had to. They'll know where that airplane is as soon as someone gets to Coffeyville Muni, checks the fax machine, and looks out on the ramp. The more time we have between now and then, the wider the search box is."

"We're going to intercept your family as soon as we can." Laz said. "Not knowing where exactly they're going could make that a little difficult, but as long as they stick to the major highways, it shouldn't present too much of a problem. Once we intercept them, we head for Washington. They won't think to look for us in their own backyard. They'll expect us to run. But we're going on the offensive."

* * *

Senator Walter Billingsworth, so called "Wally Bills" because of the vast number of bills he had sponsored during his congressional career, took a step back from the curb as the large Mercedes Benz limousine pulled up. He paid no attention to the valet who opened the door for him as he levered his massive bulk inside. He shrugged out of his coat, quite out of breath by the time he managed to extricate himself from it. He huffed as he retrieved a glass from the bar and poured himself a snifter of 50 year old Remy Martin. It was only after his first sip that he noticed the tinted window separating him from the driver was up. He pressed the intercom button.

"Miles, you know I hate it when that fucking thing is up. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

When the glass did not immediately roll down he pressed the button again. "Miles, you shit-for-brains. Didn't you hear me? Put that fucking thing down!"

He grumbled to himself, his temper flaring as he reached for the control himself. Nothing happened when he pressed the switch. The lockout had been activated. He reached forward and pounded on the glass.

"That's it you asshole! You're fucking fired!"

The limo suddenly accelerated hard, throwing him back in his seat. He scrabbled to get into his seatbelt as the car weaved through traffic, tossing him from side to side. He cursed a blue streak that would have turned the foulest mouthed sailor beet red. He finally got belted in, not a moment too soon as the car lurched to a sudden, tire squealing stop. The window rolled down.

"Such language, Senator," Steve said. "What would your constituents say?"

"Who the hell are you?"

The door opened and Laz climbed in. The limo started moving again.

"What's going on here? Who are you people?"

"Four words, Senator," Laz said. "Black Briar. King Kong."

He regarded Laz coldly.

"You're him, aren't you?"

Laz simply stared at him.

"You're a dead man, you know that?"

"I died once. It didn't slow me down." He handed the senator a netbook. "Open it. You should find it interesting."

He did, and scanned the information on the screen.

"Where the hell did you get this?"

"That's not important. What _is_ important is what we intend to do with it."

"You release this and we'll-"

"We don't intend to release it."

"Then what?"

"We don't intend to do anything with it. Yet"

Billingsworth regarded him for a moment, then closed the netbook.

"I'm listening."

"Black Briar destroyed my life, and the lives of people I care very deeply about. I want it back."

"That's impossible."

"I know. The life is gone. The people are not."

"You already have the girl. And her family, I'm assuming. But we have yours."

"And you're going to let them go. Tell them it was all a big mistake, apologize and send them on their way. I'm not interested in them. I have what I want. Now all I want is a way to keep them."

"What do you propose?"

He outlined his plans to him. Billingsworth listened, and when Laz was finished, he refreshed his glass. He looked at Laz for a long moment.

"Confidentiality agreements won't keep you silent."

"You're right. They won't. But our being together, and being left alone, will. And if certain things aren't done at certain times, if something should happen to any of us…you'll be grabbing your ankles on the White House lawn along with a large number of your fellows."

Billingsworth was silent for more than a minute, during which the limo came to a stop.

"It's not a difficult thing, Senator."

"So we bring you back into the fold."

"Not Black Briar. I've already said that. Places where we can do good, honest work. I go to the FBI. My team goes to the bureau of their choosing. Kim goes to Quantico." He smiled. "As soon as the honeymoon is over. And we forget all about you and the rest of your dirty companions. Except during an election year, of course."

Billingsworth laughed. "Son, I haven't worried about elections in quite some time."

"Then you have absolutly nothing to worry about."

Billingsworth regarded Laz for a long moment, then laughed heartily. "King Kong, huh? Well you got his balls, that's for sure." He stuck out his hand. Laz shook it.

"Call off the manhunt and release my parents as proof of your sincerity. Then someone will be in touch and we'll work out the details."

"Deal."

Laz opened the small refrigerator, scanned the contents, and fished out two bottles of Pernod-Ricard Perrier-Jouet.

"Thanks, Senator. We'll be celebrating tonight."

"Now wait just a damn minute, those are 50,000 a bottle!"

"Then it'll be one hell of a celebration. Have a good evening, Senator."

Steve and Laz opened their doors.

"Hey! Who's going to drive me home?"

"Don't worry, Senator, we've got you covered. We paid him a hundred bucks. He'll drive you anywhere you want to go."

They got out and an unkempt man in ragged clothes, smelling equally of malt liquor and vomit climbed behind the wheel. When he spoke he sounded like Tommy Chong.

"Wow, man, this is like, the nicest thing I've ever been in." He belched and turned to Billingsworth. "So where to, man?"

* * *

_Six weeks later…_

Laz stopped the car outside the main dormitory of the FBI Academy. Kim sat in the passenger seat, wringing her hands.

"Don't be nervous," he said. "You've got a step up on everybody here. You're almost back to your old self."

"It's not that. It's just…we'll never be free, will we? We'll be looking over our shoulders the rest of our lives."

"If we're smart. But everyone involved will eventually realize that the best possible arrangement has been made. The heat will die down."

"You're certain."

"Of course I am."

She stared in his eyes, saw the confidence there, and knew he was right.

"Okay."

"Good." He took her hands, kissed them, then kissed the shiny gold band that encircled her third left finger. Finally he kissed her lips.

"Now off to school with you, Mrs. Heatherly. I'm going to be late for work."


End file.
